


smoke on the water

by WeeBeastie



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-14 01:53:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10526412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeeBeastie/pseuds/WeeBeastie
Summary: Silver and Flint get weed. Silver and Flint get high together. Shenanigans ensue.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly and foremost-ly, THIS IS CRACK. Basically I had a silly idea and ran with it because dammit that’s what this fandom needs right now.
> 
> Set vaguely season 3-ish because I feel like it, but there’s no real plot here. Rated E for drug use and a sex scene that I didn’t plan for but they (Silver) insisted on. Various things borrowed from various places; the title is from the Deep Purple song, obviously. Full disclosure, I don’t know if people rolled joints in the golden age of piracy but that’s what I’m going with. 
> 
> Unbeta’d. Smooches and thanks to vowelinthug and everyone else who was like OMG DO IT when I pitched this ludicrous idea on Tumblr. You’re all enablers and it’s wonderful, never change.

Silver and Flint are busily poring over navigational charts when someone knocks on the door of Flint’s cabin. “What?” Flint calls out, mildly annoyed.

Billy Bones ducks through the door and approaches his captain and quartermaster, a small leather bag clutched in one of his gigantic hands. “Found a couple of the men squabbling over this. One says it’s his; the other says it belongs to him, and the first man stole it. Figured if they’re arguing over it like that, it must be valuable, so I told ‘em give it here and I’ll take it to the captain.” He sets the innocuous bag on the desk and steps back. “Dunno what it is, smells weird. Maybe an exotic spice or summat. You let me know how you want the accusation of theft dealt with when you’ve reached your decision,” Billy says, then departs.

Silver watches Billy go, then regards the bag on the desk curiously. He picks it up and unlaces the strings, sniffing at the contents. “Oh-ho,” he says, eyebrows raising nearly to his hairline.

“What is it?” Flint asks, taking the bag from Silver and peering inside. He looks up sharply, wary of Silver’s shark-like grin. “Is this what I think it is? Why do you look so pleased?” 

“It is exactly what you think it is, and I look so pleased because we’re going to smoke it,” Silver informs Flint. He takes the bag back and upends it over the desk, emptying its contents into a neat little heap. 

“Absolutely not, put it away,” Flint says, shaking his head. “Drinking is one thing, but this…we don’t know what it’ll do to us,” he says. “What if something happens while we’re both off our heads on this stuff?”

Silver tilts his head down and to one side, trying to hide his grin. “Have you never tried it before?” he asks, ignoring Flint’s prudent concerns and casting about for a small scrap of paper. He finds one on the corner of the desk and rolls a decent quantity of their new prize up in the paper, licking it to seal it shut.

“No, I haven’t,” Flint admits, watching Silver’s deft hands and looking somewhat mesmerized. “I’d ask if you have, but I believe the answer is staring me in the face.”

Silver puts the joint between his teeth and leans down to the lamp on Flint’s desk, managing to light the joint without setting his hair on fire (a miracle, really). He inhales, then takes the joint from his mouth and offers it to Flint. “Just try it, it’ll be fun,” he croaks, managing to speak without exhaling any of the smoke.

“Why does it always make me nervous when you say that?” Flint gripes, but takes the joint from Silver just the same. He inhales, managing to cough out only a little of the smoke, then passes it back. “I don’t feel anything,” he says, then exhales, wondering what the point of this exercise is.

Silver exhales the breath he’d been holding and rounds the desk, standing close to Flint. “It’s not instantaneous. Give it a minute,” he says. “Here, let me show you something you’ll really like,” he murmurs. He takes a hit and holds the smoke in his mouth, then leans in to press his lips to Flint’s, open-mouthed. He exhales the breath of smoke and Flint begins to feel a peculiar heavy warmth settling over him even as his heart races from the feel of Silver’s lips on his own. That will never get old.

“Oh,” Flint says, blinking. He feels a bit unsteady all of a sudden and sits on the floor, looking plaintively up at Silver until he awkwardly clambers down to join him. They sit next to each other and pass the joint back and forth a few more times as Flint begins to feel the drug take effect. He feels sluggish and warm all over, a little foggy but nothing like being drunk. Mostly he just feels…good.

“What?” Silver asks after a long period of silence.

“What?” Flint replies, and Silver just laughs. He takes another hit and leans over to exhale the smoke into Flint’s mouth, lingering for a moment to kiss him soundly. When he pulls back just a fraction, his eyes are even narrower than usual and a bit unfocused. 

“Your freckles are like stars,” Silver observes, awe in his voice. “Like little red-gold stars in a milky night sky,” he breathes, smoke curling around his face.

“You look like a dragon,” Flint replies, reaching out to take the tie from Silver’s hair, releasing it from its ponytail. His curls cascade around both of them and Silver positively giggles. “Give,” Flint says, reaching for the joint. He inhales from it and leans in to kiss Silver again, eliciting a soft moan. “This may not have been your worst idea yet,” Flint admits after he pulls back, hazily meeting Silver’s eyes. His own are starting to look rather bloodshot.

“I know what I’m doing,” Silver agrees, smug. He begins struggling with his shirt, suddenly overheated. He manages to get it off and casts it aside with a sigh of relief. “Where d’you think my leg is?” he asks, leaning over to unstrap the boot on his left leg. He’s not thinking about Flint seeing what remains of his leg, he just wants to be comfortable.

Flint furrows his brow. “It’s…you’ve just taken it off, it’s right there. Or do you mean your other one? Because that’s still there. It’s that long thing between your arse and your foot.”

Silver snorts and shakes his head, reaching out for the joint to take another hit off it. “No, I mean,” he croaks, then exhales. “I mean the bit Howell cut off. Where is it now? What happened to it?”

“Mm,” Flint hums, taking the joint back. He takes a long hit and exhales the smoke between his teeth, thinking. “Like as not it went overboard, so…it’s in the ocean somewhere, feeding the fish,” he says. He hands the joint back to Silver, who takes one last long inhale before stubbing it out on the floor. 

Silver holds his breath as long as possible, then blows the smoke out in rings. He watches the rings float away and disappear, while Flint finds himself watching the shape of Silver’s mouth. It makes Flint want to kiss him, so he does, reaching out to pull Silver over into his lap. Silver makes a noise of pleasure and wraps his arms around Flint’s neck, starting to grind his hips against Flint’s. “I want to fuck,” he pants suddenly against his mouth, and Flint can feel that Silver is hard.

“Is there ever a time you don’t want to fuck?” Flint replies, amused. He reaches down to fumble his pants open and gets sidetracked by Silver’s cock, putting his hand over it and giving it a good squeeze.

“Rarely,” Silver admits, grinning crookedly and pushing up against Flint’s hand. He pulls away reluctantly to divest himself of the rest of his clothing, and Flint does the same because it seems like a good idea. Silver’s just full of good ideas, lately. It would seem he’s planned ahead, too, as before he casts his pants aside he takes a small bottle of oil from one pocket and presses it into Flint’s hand.

“Clever boy,” Flint rumbles, lying on his back and stretching out, pouring oil over his fingers and watching Silver’s face as he starts opening himself up with two fingers.

Silver studies Flint with an expression of desire and wonder, reaching down to take himself in hand and idly stroke himself while Flint prepares. “You’re so beautiful,” he says quietly, eyelashes fluttering. “I know you think you’re a big scary monster and you want other people to think that too, and I’m sure they do, some of them leastways, but…what was I saying?” he asks, catching his lower lip between his teeth and watching Flint.

“Come here,” Flint replies, and Silver shuffles awkwardly forward on his knees. His balance is not the best, but he’s determined. Flint eases his fingers out of himself, then strokes Silver lazily to get some of the oil on him, too. Silver moans heatedly and pitches forward, still on his knees but now with his hands braced on the floor on either side of Flint. Flint uses the hand he has on Silver’s cock to guide him into place.

“Is this all right?” Silver asks as he leans over Flint, pushing slowly into him as Flint’s legs settle around his waist. “Oh my god, oh, oh James,” he gasps, his body wracked with a shudder of pleasure.

Flint just groans and pulls Silver in close with his legs, squirming impatiently underneath him. “Fuck me,” he says, trying to sound commanding. He can tell it doesn’t work when Silver giggles.

“You can’t make me,” Silver taunts, but his hips start moving of their own accord. He grinds down into him, hissing out a breath between his teeth. “Ahh, fuck, James,” he growls, looking down into his eyes.

“I love how my name sounds in your mouth,” Flint says, breathless, leaning up to kiss Silver messily. He imagines he can still taste the smoke in his mouth, mixed with the familiar taste of Silver. “John,” he says when he pulls back, his hips surging upwards to meet Silver’s with each thrust. “Yes, yes, that’s it,” he purrs, starting to lose himself in the sensation. His world narrows to just this, just them– their bodies working together, giving and receiving pleasure endlessly. Warm skin on warm skin, and the way Silver’s eyes look when he catches Flint’s gaze, like he’s almost overwhelmed by what he’s seeing.

After what could be minutes or hours (Flint has lost all sense of time), Silver gets that look like he does when he’s moments away from coming and Flint moans at the sight, leaning up to kiss him. As soon as their lips meet, they both go off, Silver sobbing against Flint’s lips and Flint making a choked noise in the back of his throat.

They wind up in a sticky, sweaty pile on the floor, Silver withdrawing and collapsing on top of Flint, Flint’s arms wrapped snugly around him. Flint has almost gathered his wits enough to say something when there’s a knock at the door. He cranes his neck to look over at it, startled. “What was that? Who’s there?” he whispers urgently to Silver, who just moans incoherently in response. “Up you get, come on,” Flint says tenderly, helping Silver off him and sitting him up on the floor.

Flint stands and grabs the sheet off the bed to cover himself, because for some reason that makes more sense than just putting his pants back on. Silver, for his part, has slumped over again and is sprawled naked and filthy on his back on the floor, seeming utterly content to stay that way. He’s even started singing to himself, as is his wont, something about the coast of High Barbary. 

A voice, muffled and unintelligible, comes through the door. “What?” Flint calls out to whoever it is. “You’ll have to speak up, I’m wearing a sheet,” he says as he meanders to the door. There’s a haze of smoke in the cabin, and the air reeks of the drug and of sex. Silver is still singing, louder now.

The next thing Flint knows, Billy is opening the door, looking comically shocked at what he sees. “I– I’m sorry! The men, they wanted know if you’d…come…to a decision,” he says, staring at the ceiling because he doesn’t know where to look.

Silver stops singing, then raises up on one arm and regards Billy from his place on the floor. “He’s so fucking tall!” he exclaims to Flint, collapsing back in peals of laughter.

“I know!” Flint replies, giggling helplessly.

“I’ll tell them you’re, er, indisposed. Goodnight,” Billy says, then beats a hasty retreat, slamming the door behind him.

“Do you think he knows we had sex just now?” Silver asks as Flint approaches and helps him up, supporting him so they can make their way together to bed.

“Who, the tall man? No, certainly not. We’re very subtle,” Flint assures him as they crawl into bed together. Flint casts aside the sheet he’d been wearing and tugs Silver close, lovingly stroking his wild hair back from his face. “Now, go to sleep,” he instructs him, leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead.

Silver closes his eyes. “James?” he murmurs, already dozing.

“Hmm?” Flint hums in reply. No response. “John?”

Silver opens his eyes and smiles, radiant. “I love how my name sounds in your mouth.”

Flint nuzzles into Silver’s sweet, smoke-scented hair and falls into a deep, dreamless sleep.


End file.
